


Return To Me What Others Stole

by sarcastic_fi



Series: Sway [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-15
Updated: 2011-10-15
Packaged: 2017-10-24 15:10:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/264903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcastic_fi/pseuds/sarcastic_fi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: While walking home one night Stiles gets jumped by a guy and is beaten up and raped.</p><p>(Scott/Stiles friendship), Derek/Stiles pre-slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Return To Me What Others Stole

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/2069.html?page=4#comments
> 
> Non-con is between Stiles and an original male character.
> 
> Title and lyrics taken from 'Sway' by The Perishers (see end notes).

Return To Me What Others Stole

Scott handed his best friend a damp cloth and a bottle of disinfectant and watched as Stiles dabbed ineffectually at his bleeding lip. He felt so fucking useless, damn it. What the hell was the use in being a werewolf with super-strength and super-hearing if he was unable to protect the ones he loved? If he couldn’t even help them when they needed him.

“Thanks, man,” Stiles said, his voice husky and Scott knew that in a few hours there would be finger shaped bruises appearing around his throat from where the creep had tried to strangle Stiles. Luckily he’d let go once Stiles had passed out, the asshole hadn’t known enough about what he was doing to know that to kill someone via strangulation you had to hold on for a few minutes after they passed out or they started breathing once you let go. Thank whatever gods where out there that this man hadn’t known that or Scott would be grieving right now.

“You... Stiles you don’t have to thank me. You should be blaming me,” Scott whispered, unable to meet Stiles’ puppy dog brown eyes. Stiles should hate him, should be yelling at him, asking him why he hadn’t heard his cried for help just a mile away from Scott’s house as some pervert held him down and violated him in the worst possible way imaginable. He should hate him.

“Why were you the one you raped me?” Stiles asked bitingly and it was enough for Scott to meet his eyes and see that his friend wasn’t broken by this horrific event, but he was hurting and there was little enough that Scott could so to help him. Still, there was no shortness of brotherly-bond shining through Stiles’ eyes as he met Scott’s gaze, and zero blame. “Come on, Scott, you’re my best friend. This wasn’t your fault and I’m glad you didn’t rush in to save me. My masculinity would have been too damaged by it,” he joked weakly. “Seriously though, I never wanted you involved. You’re a werewolf, Scott, and this was something horrible and nauseating and will give me nightmares for dozens of years to come but it was human, and you can’t wolf out to save me, not when it means exposing your secret and risking your life.”  
Scott was amazed. “Stiles, you nearly died! I could have saved you, I should have saved you!”

“No!” Stiles stood up, anger flashing through his eyes. “Fuck that, Scott. Like I said, you’re my best friend and I don’t want you dying on my account. I’m alive, you’re alive... I just want to get some sleep and hope my dad is at work tomorrow so he doesn’t ask any questions about my bruises, got it?”

“What do you mean? Stiles, you can’t hide this from your dad! You have to tell him, report it or that asshole will get away with... with hurting you!” Scott almost yelled out the words he was so angry. Angry that someone hurt Stiles. Angry that someone was going to get away with it.

Stiles backed away from his friend. “Calm down, Scott, your wolf is starting to show. Look, my dad and I already have a relationship that is strained enough. I know I’m not the son he wanted, I’m on the bench at Lacrosse games, I don’t get A’s in class and I’m never going to date the post popular girl in school, prom was just a fluke. He loves me, but he can’t relate to me. How do you think this would make him feel, Scott? Just like you feel now, like he failed as a dad because he couldn’t protect me. And it would only make things between us worse, I doubt he’d ever be able to look me in the eye again. You have to promise me you won’t tell my dad, Scott, please don’t tell him it’ll only make my life harder. Please,” Stiles begged, tears in his eyes and for the first time tonight Scott could really see the damage that had been done. It wasn’t the blood or the bruises, it was the fear Stiles carried around inside him. Fear that he was nothing now that someone had hurt him like this, that his dad would reject him or not love him as much or something. It was stupid but understandable and Scott wanted to punch the unknown assailant so much that it physically hurt not to go after him.

“Fine,” Scott ground out, and watched relief visibly pass through Stiles’ eyes.

“Thank you,” he breathed. “Is it alright if I crash here tonight? My dad is at home and... you know,” Stiles said.

“Of course, man. You know where the sleeping bag is. I just gotta pee. You gonna be okay?” Scott asked, anxious when Stiles winced as he bent down to retrieve a sleeping bag that Scott had kept rolled up under his bed ever since they were kids and began this tradition of crashing at each other’s houses. Stiles had a sleeping bag at his house too, just for Scott’s occasional use.

“I’ll be fine,” Stiles said but Scott didn’t believe a word of it. He nodded, however, and made his way to the bathroom, locking the door behind himself and dialling a number on his speed dial. Stiles had made him promise not to tell his dad and Scott had no intention of breaking his word, but he hadn’t said anything about not telling Derek.

“What!” The Alpha growled on the other end of the line.

It was standard ‘Derek’ greeting so Scott didn’t let the tone put him off. “It’s Scott. Look... I know you don’t like him and I understand he can be a bit much to handle sometimes, but he’s my best friend and he’s pack so can you just give him a break and help me. Something really bad happened... and I want to make someone pay for hurting him,” Scott added, his voice dark with unexpressed rage.

“Who hurt Stiles and how?” Derek asked and Scott was surprised to find that his alpha sounded like he actually cared and wanted revenge as much as Scott did.

“I don’t know. He came to mine about half an hour ago, walking because his Jeep’s still in the shop after it got busted. Someone... a man... he... he attacked Stiles and... and Stiles is wincing and bleeding and the guy tried to choke him to death but Stiles started breathing again and made it here,” Scott attempted to explain, hindered not only by his anger but also by his inability to say out loud that his friend was raped.

“Scott,” Derek said, slow and dangerous, “are you saying someone raped Stiles and that this person is still alive?” The nuance on ‘still’ sent shivers down Scott’s spine.

“Stiles didn’t want me to go after him, and he shouldn’t be left alone so yeah, the asshole is out there breathing,” Scott admitted.

“I’ll sort it,” Derek said shortly before ending the call.

“What do you mean ‘sort it’? Derek? Derek!” Scott shouted into the receiver, only the desolate hum of a disconnected call answered him.  
Shit. It wasn’t like Scott wanted this dirtbag alive, or that he had a problem with Derek going after him for some retribution after all that was why he had called him. On the other hand Derek had sounded mightily pissed and in his mood Scott wasn’t sure that the alpha would be able to stop himself from killing this guy, assuming he found him and Scott guessed that with all the powers that came with being a werewolf alpha that wouldn’t be any trouble. What would be trouble was Derek up on murder charges. Again.

“Dude, were you just shouting ‘Derek’ while you p...” Stiles opened the door and lost any colour that had been left in his already pale face when he saw the cell phone in his best friend’s hand.

Double shit.

“Did you call Derek and tell him about... about what happened?” Stiles asked.  
Scott gulped. Stiles looked even more wrecked now, and this time it really was on him. “Look, Stiles, Derek is our alpha and he’s supposed to look out for us.”

“He’s your alpha,” Stiles argued, “I’m just the annoying human sidekick who apparently now can’t even look after himself walking two miles! I’m sure the great alpha is having a right laugh about this!” Stiles snapped angrily, and Scott could tell that fear and hurt were generating that anger.

“No, Stiles. Derek would never laugh at you for getting attacked. He is as angry as I am,” Scott tried to explain, but if anything it seemed to make matters worse.

“What the fuck, dude! You did not just send an angry werewolf out after that guy? Are you insane? So you want people to come and cut you up into little bits and experiment on you!” Stiles asked.

“Derek has spent his whole life hiding the fact he is a werewolf, he can handle it,” Scott defended his actions, weakly. “I’m tired, and you’re hurt, can we please go to bed and get some sleep?”

“I guess there’s no stopping him so this is all we can do,” Stiles remarked acridly before going back into the bedroom and diving into the warmth of the sleeping bag.

Scott followed, settling himself in his own bed after switching the light out. After a few moments of listening to Stiles deliberately trying to even out his breathing, Scott spoke. “And you are pack. Always.”

Derek wiped the blood off of his hands, staring at his face in the mirror of an abandoned rest room south of the forest. He’d retraced Stiles’ journey from the Stilinski house to Scott’s and found the area he’d been attacked. It had wreaked of Stiles’ fear and pain, and underneath had been the scent of his attacker. Derek was an amazing tracker, and he’d managed to follow his nose and find the pervert sipping beers at a bar five miles away, laughing with his buddies like he hadn’t just made the biggest mistake he will ever make in his tiny pathetic and soon to be short life.

A few beers later and the man had come stumbling out of the bar humming the theme tune to the X-files as he fumbled with his keys. Derek would have smiled at how easy a kill it was, had he not been so pissed off and intent on making this creep’s pain last for as long as possible without alerting anyone to his activities. Derek smiled now to think of how well he had succeeded. His werewolf abilities had allowed him to kill the man in the form of a wolf meaning it could never be traced back to him, that was if anyone even managed to find enough of his body parts to make an identification let alone find his killer.

Still, even though he had ‘taken care’ of the man who had hurt Stiles, something in him was unsatisfied and called out for him to take action. Knowing what kind of mood he was in he knew just how dangerous giving into that impulse would be. Someone could get hurt, someone who didn’t deserve it.

He growled to himself and tugged on his clothing, which had been left here so they wouldn’t be contaminated with blood evidence. It was so methodical and planned that Derek was starting to worry about himself. He wasn’t a murderer like his uncle, in fact before today he had never killed anyone except in self defence... like Kate. This.... this had been different. What made it worse was that he didn’t even feel guilty, not at all.

Still, there was something gnawing away at his insides. Something that could only be cured one way, and Derek had a feeling he knew exactly what he had to do next.

Stiles woke up with a start, breathing rapidly into the silent night air as he struggled to remember where he was and why. Then it all came flashing back with horrifyingly accurate recall. The feel of the man’s hand over his mouth as he cursed Stiles out, spitting over him as he felt up Stiles’ body groping and hitting him as he saw fit. Worst of all had been the way the pervert had kissed him, like he was a lover, even as he violently thrust inside Stiles’ virgin body, letting blood lubricate his way. No wonder he had woken up scared, Stiles thought, it had been the worst day of his life to date and he completely included the time that Peter Hale almost killed him and the time at the school when Scott nearly killed them all. The day his mom died... now that was a tie with what had just happened.

But as Stiles looked around the room he slowly started to realise it hadn’t been his inner demons causing him to wake. There was a noise at the window, like a branch scraping across the glass only Stiles had spent enough time at Scott’s house to know that there wasn’t a tree outside his room.

“Scott!” Stiles hissed, fear surging through his body even as he made himself lie extremely still so as not to draw attention to himself.

“Scott!”

The lump in the bed next to him groaned and snuggled further into the blankets, never waking from his slumber. Stiles was paralysed by his fear. What if the guy who had raped him had followed him and knew he was alive and was returning to finish the job? What if he was going to rape Stiles again? He knew that that would never happen with his best friend, who was after all a werewolf, lying right next to him but reason didn’t seem to affect him as his life flashed before his eyes for the second time that night.

“Stiles? It’s me, open the window!” The familiar and fear inspiring tones of Derek Hale made Stiles feel relief for perhaps the first time ever. That was until he remembered that Scott had blabbed to the alpha wolf.

“Um... no,” Stiles tried, scooting away from the window and meeting Derek’s glowing red eyes. “Dude, you look scary no way am I letting you in here!”

“I am not scary! Stiles let me in. Now!” Derek growled, not disproving Stiles claim. Still, Stiles had never been able to deny Derek and since he had become Scott’s alpha it had become almost a compulsion to obey. Didn’t mean Stiles didn’t try his best to resist and bitch about it constantly.

“Whasgoinon,” slurred Scott as he started to wake up.

“Derek’s here!” Stiles hissed at his friend. Scott jumped out of his bed, guilt flashing across his face even as he rushed to open the window. Derek jumped in elegantly and strode confidently towards Stiles. Instinctively Stiles backed away and took note when Derek flinched and slowed his approach.

“Hey, Derek what are you doing!” Scott asked angrily as Derek reached out towards Stiles.

“Get out, Scott,” Derek said flatly, his voice imbued with all his alpha-mojo which apparently didn’t force people to obey like Stiles had originally worried it did, it just encouraged them. And no one could deny that Derek Hale was extremely encouraging.

Scott tensed and clearly wanted to start an argument but one glance from Derek had him fleeing his own room, with a single comment tossed in Stiles’ direction, “if you need me, call.”

Stiles knew that he wouldn’t need to call. No matter how many times Derek had threatened his life he knew the werewolf would never kill him, his presence here tonight proved that he cared about what happened to Stiles, which was a surprise but not an unpleasant one. Still, Stiles knew how much it cost Scott to say that in front of his alpha so it really meant a lot to him.

Once Scott was gone, probably hovering outside the door, Derek leaned in and started touching Stiles all over. At first Stiles thought the man was checking for injuries which was kind of sweet even if it was a little bit invasive, but then he started stroking his hands down Stiles face, down his arms and leaning in to sniff at his neck. Finally Stiles pushed him away, and they were both surprised when Derek stumbled back a few steps because no way was Stiles that strong.

“Okay, what the hell? You find out I was attacked and then start invading my personal space? I’m a victim here, I’ve been victimised don’t you have any sensitivity at all? Is there some kind of werewolf sensitivity training I can get you? Seriously!” Stiles ranted.  
Derek watched him, eyes glued to Stiles’ face in a way that made Stiles flush when he realised how intensely the werewolf was looking at him.

“What! What is it?” Stiles asked finally when silence had elapsed pass the point which Stiles found bearable, which in Stiles’ world was about fifteen seconds.

“You aren’t afraid,” Derek said slowly.

“Are you kidding me? I’m terrified. I’ve been terrified all night, and that is a normal reaction not just me being a wimp because I’m not!” Stiles said defensively.

“Of me,” Derek growled. “I smelt your fear all over the ground where you were attacked, smelt it in this room as well but not since I arrived. I make you feel safe,” Derek guessed, realisation glowing in his eyes.  
Stiles gulped. This conversation was not one he was prepared to be having now. Not for a long time, if ever. “Scott makes me feel safe,” he said.

Derek’s eyes flashed. “Lie,” he replied surprisingly calm. “I killed the man who hurt you, but still something in me was... unsettled. That feeling is gone now that I see you are safe and can smell you,” he admitted.

“I... I can’t do this Derek... not now maybe not ever...” Stiles felt a tiny spark of fury underneath his stunned amazement at what Derek was implying. Derek cared about him, but that pervert who had attacked him would always be between them now. Stiles had been a virgin, but that asshole had taken that away from him, stole his innocence and his purity and tainted it forever. How could he ever give himself to someone when that was always going to be there?

“I can still smell him on you,” Derek growled.

“I showered... earlier but I guess werewolf smell is sharper than human,” Stiles said sadly. Normally werewolf powers were a source of awe for Stiles who thought it was majorly cool being able to run faster than any human or eavesdrop on a conversation someone was having fifty feet away, but this was the downside he guessed.

Derek stepped closer, pulling Stiles into the heat of his body and wrapping his arms around him. Stiles stood there, shocked and longing to be able to reciprocate but frozen. Derek rubbed his nose against Stiles neck and breathed in deep. “I’ll make you smell like me,” Derek said softly, and Stiles relaxed against the werewolf. He knew it wasn’t a come on, it wasn’t meant to be threatening or overwhelming. It was what it was, a gesture of acceptance and belonging. Derek wanted to remind Stiles that he was pack, that he was his, and in true werewolf fashion that came with scent sharing and touching. The gesture touched Stiles more than anything else. Although...

“You killed him?” Stiles whispered against Derek’s chest, listening to the steady thump-thump of the older man’s heart beating.

“They’ll never find his body,” Derek growled menacingly.

Stiles breathed out a sigh of relief. No one was coming to hurt him, and even if they tried ever again he knew now that Derek would be there to put him back together afterwards. He pulled Derek down to the sleeping bag and snuggled close to the werewolf amazed at his own confidence with Derek especially after what had happened. “I’m sorry I let him touch me,” Stiles whispered, his voice breaking on the word ‘touch’.

Derek stroked his hair. “You didn’t. I know you didn’t. He hurt you, and I wasn’t there to stop him. I’ll never make that mistake again,” Derek swore, and Stiles knew he meant it.

Stiles wanted to stay awake, to feel Derek’s fingers caressing him and listen to his heart beat until the dawn coloured the sky, but he was so tired and he felt so safe and warm. Sleep overcame him and the last thing he felt was Derek leaning in to press chaste lips against his forehead. Safe. He was safe now, and Derek would always protect him.

\- The End -

**Author's Note:**

> Sway [the perishers]
> 
> It was you who picked  
> the pieces up  
> When I was a broken soul  
> And then glued me  
> back together  
> Returned to me what  
> others stole
> 
> That verse really reminds me of the last scene in this fiction. The rest of the lyrics can be found here;  
> (http://www.sing365.com/music/lyric.nsf/Sway-lyrics-The-Perishers/037106C0BB6272E448256FA7000CD6F3)


End file.
